Truth
by goldstars
Summary: The truth hurts, but that doesn't mean it isn't going to come out anyway.


The waves are crashing against the shore. It feels like they've been crashing there forever; for so long that she almost can't remember low tide and calmly stirring waters. _Almost_. Sometimes it's like she's drowning in those waves, however far she may be from the beach. Always though, just when she starts to feel like letting go and allowing the tide to wash her away, a vision of long brassy hair, rosy checks, and laughing lips flashes before her, heading deeper into the sea then Veronica would ever dare to go. Then she blinks, and Lilly's gone. Somewhere though, she knows that Lilly is still laughing at her.

It's cold out. This doesn't really take a genius to figure out; after all, a cold breeze has only been blowing through for a half hour or so. It surprises her then that she hadn't even really noticed until now. She hugs her sweatshirt closer to her, even though it really doesn't make her feel any warmer. A chill runs through her spine, and she shivers involuntarily. Her hand, an almost snow-white color from the cold, reaches up to brush back her windswept hair. Her eye lingers for a moment on the Calculus textbook lying unopened next to her on the hood of her car. It reminds her that it's late, the almost interrupted darkness of the sky sort of gives it away, and that she has a test tomorrow that she'd come out here to study for in the first place. She really should get home; she's been sitting out here for too long. Looking out onto open water used to make her feel calm, a little more at peace than she usually feels anymore. Now she just does it out of habit. She gets up slowly, uncurling and avoiding thinking about how every part of her feels like it has fallen into a deep sleep. The textbook is snapped up quickly; no sense in touching cold, dark metal for longer than necessary, even if she is in a masochistic mood. Sand shakes around a bit in her shoes, and she briefly considers shaking them out before getting into her car before dismissing the thought. Sand in her shoes is more than a little insignificant. Worrying about it is like worrying about a broken nail, and she hasn't done that in a long time.

She gets into the car, which despite not quite matching up with those of the 09ers, does have such new-fangled technology as heating and carefully moves her camera over into the passenger seat on top of her textbook. The last thing she needs is for her camera to break somehow. Three sleepless nights of stake out and two days of English class periods which provided a pleasant time to nap had finally resulted in her getting the money shot she needed to close another stupid case. Why cheating spouses couldn't just turn at the right angle for the shots on the first night she had to stake out outside of a cheap motel was one of the few mysteries that Veronica couldn't solve. She was going to get it eventually anyway, and if they were going to have to start hoarding up cash to pay out a generous divorce settlement to one pissed off spouse or another, she thought it would be in everyone's best interest if they could get started sooner rather than later. Those divorce papers do take some time to prepare, so they might as well get started so they can move on to another secretary and the rest of their lives.

If the private detective business had taught her one thing, it was to never fall in love. She always had to resist the urge to roll her eyes as she walked down the hallways at school, listening to giggly girls discuss their fairytale-esque romances in hushed voices to all their other giggly friends. Veronica knows better than to believe in fairy tales. Disney might choose to roll the credits after a golden kiss and declaration of vows, but Veronica knows that the real end of the Cinderella story is a girl left standing alone in the middle of a crowded place, not knowing where or why her prince has gone.

Veronica is through with Cinderella stories. They are part of her old life and the lives of the Hilary Duff wannabes of her high school. She's the one who's looking for the real end of the story; the one lifting the last bit of veil left over peoples' eyes and showing them the bitter truth that's staring them in the face. Certainly the truth will set you free, but it'll also stab you in the back and in the heart, twisting in place when it reaches the weakest part. The truth hurts, but telling oneself lies in order to avoid that pain is an exercise in futility. The truth will come out eventually, no matter how much you want to avoid it; and when it does, it will smack you in the face.

That's why Veronica chases the truth like a moth chases after the flame. Change has snuck up on her so often that it's like she's caught in some stupid horror movie that's permanently stuck on the part where the killer jumps out of the closet holding a big shiny knife, ready to kill the next ditzy blond girl who has the misfortune of walking by. And she's bound and determined that this time, nothing will surprise her. The truth is going to come out, and she is going to be the one to expose it if it kills her. The Lilly Kane case is her obsession, her motivation, the fire under her that keeps her constantly on the move. She'll be the one to find out who killed her best friend, and she'll make that person pay. Dante's Hell is a children's playground compared to the sort of hell Veronica wants to put that person through. If she has to bend a few rules or offend someone else's sense of morality to get to the truth, so be it. This is the real world, and the heroine of the story doesn't have to be perfect. She doesn't even have to be a good person. After all, devils are only fallen angels, and Veronica Mars has a marshmallow for a heart.

Without looking out over the dashboard for a last look at the shore, she puts the car into gear and heads off down the long road leading home. No other cars are on the road, and for some reason the darkness all around her, broken only by a few scattered street lights badly in need of bulb changes, almost comforts her. There's still a few hours left until sunrise, and there is still a chance she'll get an hour or two of sleep before starting up again. Imitating the Energizer Bunny is a tough job, and she has Calculus the period before English. Veronica has a 4.0 GPA to maintain after all, her weapon of choice for making teachers' complaints about her seem like the utter paranoia that it is and for getting the hell out of Neptune.

Tenacity, force of will, and karate chop only go so far in placating school administrators.


End file.
